


Crowfeather

by consumptive_sphinx



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gang war AU, M/M, Modern Fantasy AU, Shapechanger AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/pseuds/consumptive_sphinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night is dark, but the Crows are darker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU came from the question, "Why would anybody ban bears?"
> 
> ...and that is how my writing works.

The night is dark, but the Crows are darker.

They all look the same - tall and slender, very pale, dark eyes and ink-black hair, all straight lines and angles. When they’re turned you can’t tell the difference between a Crow and a crow.

Glorfindel’s own initiation did something similar, but instead of making him a Crow it made him a Grizzly, tall and muscular and strong. Being surrounded by Grizzlies is like being surrounded by family; being surrounded by Crows is like being on an alien planet.

Really, though, he’s just grateful that he wasn’t shot on sight - the streets between 17th and 25th are technically disputed territory, but the Crows have control there at the moment and a Grizzly really shouldn’t be wandering at night. But the two Crows who found him either felt like being nice today or didn’t want a shootout tomorrow, so instead of lying in the gutter Glorfindel is sitting quietly in a locked room, people he’d normally be aiming a gun at watching him through the windows, in the heart of Crow land.

In the room with him is a Crow boy, younger than the others Glorfindel’s seen. He looks about nineteen, Glorfindel’s own age, and while most Crows have eyes so dark it looks like the iris is just a continuation of the pupil, this boy’s are a warm, deep brown. His hair is swept into a braid that’s falling out, and his hands are held in his pockets. If he’s in here to watch Glorfindel he isn’t doing a very good job; he hasn’t looked over at him once so far.

Glorfindel sits on the floor next to the boy’s chair and quietly watches him.

He’d never thought a Crow could be beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why do you look different from the other Crows?" 

They don't ask one another many questions. There's so much they aren't allowed to say that there isn't much point. 

Erestor smiles lazily from across the pillow. "I'm a natural skinchanger. Never needed the initiation. Technically I'm a Raven, not a Crow, but it was close enough to let me in." He moves closer to Glorfindel, buries his face in the crook of Glorfindel's neck. "Why?"

Glorfindel has to measure his response carefully. "I've been wondering since the day we met," he says, and doesn't say that it might be the only reason Glorfindel can love him. 

He's been trained for too long to hate the Crows. Erestor could just as easily be a civilian, be anyone else in the whole damn city, but any other would be too otherworldly, too _alien_ to ever forget. They are on opposite sides of a war. 

Both of them could be killed for being here. They both know it. Glorfindel wishes he could say he didn't care, but he does. He's died for love before, but he'd sooner live. 

The silence stretches for just a moment too long, going from intimate to awkward in the space of a second. 

"I was nine when I joined." Glorfindel doesn't know why he says it, but once the story's begun he can't stop. "My friend wanted to, and I followed him. I was always following him."

Erestor smiles again, more of an _I want to know you_ and less of a smirk. "I was nine too," he says, his voice softer than Glorfindel's. "I thought, I'll always be suspected of being a Crow, may as well actually be one, right?"

Glorfindel could laugh, if he weren't still thinking of Ecthelion. 

(He'd been reborn when the ritual was over. Ecthelion — hadn't.)

(Glorfindel's tried to forget, but _good god_ he still misses him.)


	3. Chapter 3

The alley is dark, but Erestor is darker. 

This particular section of the city is disputed territory; he's on guard, ready to turn and fly away at any moment. He's good, but if the Grizzlies catch him outnumbered he'll still be in deep shit. 

The alley is quiet, but Erestor is quieter. 

He's on the edge of the disputed section. Half a block forwar and he'll be in Grizzly land, where there is no dispute and no chance of a fair fight — just another Crow found dead in the morning, no loss to anyone. 

The alley is still, but Erestor is stiller. 

He has someone to meet. 

xxx

It's almost half an hour later when Glorfindel shows up. 

Erestor usually doesn't dare, even in his mind, to use the name. He doesn't usually let himself think of Glorfindel at all; Huginn and Muninn and too many of the their inner circle can hear. 

Now, there are no Crow-lords, and nobody to hear. Only Erestor, and Glorfindel, and the night. 

"I've missed you." As always, it's Glorfindel who's the first to speak. 

Erestor doesn't say anything, the lump in his throat won't let him, but he reaches out to touch Glorfindel's shoulder. There's a brand-new scar there, sickly pale against ebony skin, a long jagged gash — made by claws or talons, not a bullet. 

Glorfindel follows his gaze and smiles, a little weakly. "One of the higher-ups caught me trying to sneak out."

Erestor's got plenty of scars for the exact same reason. Everyone was young and stupid once. But this is something else. 

"You can't stay there." Erestor speaks before he has the chance to think, which is strange because you'd think nineteen years being a Crow would have beaten the impulse of of him. Erestor loves his family, but cannot and does not deny how ruthless they are. 

Glorfindel shakes his head. "I can't _leave,_ Raven." He usually hears the word spat at him by a Crow who wants to remind him of his place, but Glorfindel says it with affection.

— and of course he can't, how could Erestor have been so stupid, _he_ can just turn and fly away but no Grizzly has that option — 

"Not without you," Glorfindel finishes, and Erestor's world stops in its tracks. 

Could he?

He could.

Would he?

That's harder. 

xxx

Erestor swallows. "Glorfindel," he says, and then stops. His voice doesn't seem to be working correctly. 

"Erestor," Glorfindel replies. They're barely two inches apart, not kissing but if either of them leaned forward they would be. 

He swallows again but his throat isn't clearing. Glorfindel takes a step back, and after the proximity Erestor's skin feels cold. 

"I — Fin, I'll go."

He didn't think about it, didn't weigh the pros and cons, didn't even consider the logistics. But he can't let Glorfindel keep getting hurt, not if there's anything he can do. 

Glorfindel smiles like sunlight. "Let's go."

And Erestor laughs, and does kiss him. 

xxx

The next morning, nobody can find either of them. 

It doesn't take long to arrive at a conclusion: They're gone.


End file.
